


Draco under Veritaserum

by Craftybadger1234



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Based on a Tumblr Post, Hand Jobs, Hogwarts Sixth Year, M/M, Veritaserum, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 23:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12352932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Craftybadger1234/pseuds/Craftybadger1234
Summary: The tumblr prompt is funny - Draco, getting questioned under Veritaserum, instead starts babbling about Potter. And yeah, the way it's portrayed in fanfic makes this a funny scenario.But in the books, Veritaserum makes you flat, dull, removed. And in that sense, the scenario might be creepy.Which turned into this - Voldemort thinks Draco is hiding something and so he questions him about it. The results are not what anyone expected.Mostly dialogue.





	Draco under Veritaserum

Draco checked that his mental shields were firmly in place before entering the drawing room. All his senses on alert, he took in the occupants of the room, any objects that could become weapons, and alternate escape routes.

One could never be too careful with the Dark Lord and his minions in residence. 

His mother poured out tea, while his father stood guard near the fireplace. The Dark Lord sat in the large armchair that once belonged to the Lord of the Manor. Draco supposed that in a sense, it still did. 

“Draco, so good of you to join us. Please sit,” that raspy voice commanded. Draco suppressed a shudder and sat in the small chair opposite his mother. 

With shaky hands his mother offered him a tiny cup of tea. Under three pairs of watchful eyes he took a cautious sip. The bitter flavor sucked the moisture from his mouth but he swallowed without further comment. The Dark Lord smiled in a way that chilled Draco. 

A test, and Draco had passed. 

“Draco, your lessons in occlumency have been most worthwhile. We can’t very well have Dumbledore finding out about your _special_ task.”

Draco’s vision wavered at the edges. His field of vision began to shrink, focusing on the red slits of eyes in front of him. 

“However, I do not like the thought that you are hiding something from me.”

The fetid smell that clung to everyone in the Manor faded away. Draco’s limbs became too heavy to lift. He sank back in his chair with a soft exhale. Nothing mattered but the voice in his ear.

“Tell me, did something happen at school, Draco?”

The cold voice echoed through his head. He plucked the memory of Hogwarts from a sea of images. Yes. 

“Yes,” Draco said, his voice flat and lifeless. 

“When?”

“After the quidditch game.” Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. “Potter caught the snitch.”

“And what did you see? Was it Dumbledore?”

“Dumbledore spoke to Potter.” The memory was bright, the old man talking to the boy. A pat on the back. Potter leaving. 

“What did they say?”

“I don't know. I was too far away to hear.”

“And then what happened?”

“Potter left. For the locker room. Alone. Everyone else had already left while he spoke to Dumbledore.” The wall he built to enclose the memory shook. 

“And then where did he go?”

“To the hospital wing.” Such a long walk. A long walk with blood oozing. “So much blood.”

“Why was he bleeding?”

“He wasn't. I was.”

“You were injured? When?”

“Yes. In the locker room.” Back to the wall of memory. Tiny chips fell away. A hole. Tendrils of memory leaked out. 

“What happened in the locker room? Did you fight with Potter?”

“No. I watched him.”

“What did he do?”

“Took off all his clothes.” He saw the haphazard pile of clothes. The towel dragging on the floor as he walked. The echo of water. “Took a shower.” 

“You watched Harry Potter take a shower?”

“Yes.” The cascade of water over his smooth back. The turn of his head into the spray. “He was naked.”

“I see. Did you like what you saw?”

Fire thrummed in his veins. “Yes.” Even with his senses dulled now, Draco felt the shift in his body as it responded to the memory. Slumped in the chair he could do nothing to hide his arousal. Nor did he care. 

The cold voice whispered now, “Did he touch himself, Draco? Intimately?”

“Yes.” The soapy flannel coasting down golden skin. His hand braced against the wall while his other fisted his cock. 

“Did you like it, Draco? Did you touch yourself?”

“Yes. He was so hard. I'd never seen another boy like that. I was hard too, so I rubbed myself over my clothes. It was my first erection in months.” Draco hid in a corner and watched, confused and scared, but undeniably interested. 

The voice, sharper now, asked, “How did you get injured?”

“I hit the corner of the locker when I tried to run away.”

“Why did you run away?”

“He saw me. Watching. So I tried to run but he caught me. When he finally let me up I ran again and fell. I hit my head.”

“What happened when he caught you?”

“He pushed my robes up and touched me. Wanked me until I came. Then he wanked over me until he came too. Then he kissed me. Said he could save me.”

“I see.” A high pitched wheeze sounded. Laughter? And then, “Do you want him to ‘save you,’ Draco?”

“No one can save me.” In a dark room, all alone. No way out. “I belong to the Dark Lord.”

“Not even the ‘Chosen One’ and his great prophet Dumbledore?”

“No.”

“Your loyalty is heartwarming, young Malfoy.” A harsh breath against his face. “Harry Potter was interested in you?”

“Yes.” The memory of a kiss, one kiss, gentle and slow. A hand on his cheek. No, a real hand, on his real cheek. A cold finger traced the line of his jaw. 

“It seems you have proven yourself more valuable than initially imagined. You've done well, Draco. Very well.”

Distantly, a broken sob and wild pleading broke through the haze but Draco didn't care. 

One kiss warmed him.


End file.
